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** Ninth Chapter**

** Total Mobilization**

*

The ground of the square-shaped Plaza of Heroes was consisting of patterns of yellow, brown and black pebbles fitted together, polished completely flat and smooth. At the eastern side it was flanked by the Great Temple of the Summer Goddess, a beautiful domed church which was four times larger than the Ruskebó Temple, with forty feet tall towers and stained glass windows portraying Leporian mythology in loving detail. It was entirely covered in polished white pebbles, and the spires were coated with yellow mica. At the western side, there was the Army Headquarters, a walled barracks complex which consisted of a seven-storeyed stepstair pyramid surrounded by lush green shrubberies. It was an impressive building, though Cinnabar had heard that most of it today consisted of multi-room apartments belonging to retired officers. The façade was coloured in a beige tone which almost glowed yellow in the sunlight.

In the south , there were three twelve-storied apartment buildings erected behind a line of vegetation, the bottom floors devoted to luxury shops and an expensive pub, the upper floors belonging to the wealthiest of the political and commercial elite of the Flower Valley, the burghers, the guild masters and the law-wise. The floors were - like most Flower Valley colonies - divided in step-stair segments, but in this case with so little space between the different storeys that the buildings looked like massive rectangular blocks with rounded edges. They had large glassed windows with wooden shutters, and the walls were covered with blue and purple marble fragments.

The Thingshall stood at the northern end of the square, almost as impressive as the Grand Temple. It was ultimately a large amphitheatre, thirty or so feet wide, built from dried mud bricks, clay and wood. The circular arena-like building was surrounded by a massive stepstair pyramid, raised in an ascetic style - the only decorations on the walls were green ivy garlands tracing down.

The square was surprisingly empty for Glennenmór, whether it had something to do with the afternoon naps or the fact that Leporians did not like open areas Cinnabar did not know. They stood outside of the open oak gates of the Thingshall, waiting. The boys had been adorned with elegant white robes and caftan-like tunics with golden embroideries - Cinnabar's was red and Arthur's blue. Cornelia wore a green robe over a black dress, while the sisters Claudia and Caroline wore black robes over blue dresses. They had spent half an hour dressing themselves up, and Caroline had been nice enough to sit with a pair of scissors, a needle and a thread to adapt the outfit of her son's graduation ceremony to Cinnabar's more... generously well-built girth.

He liked how Caroline had explained his size, and decided to start to call himself_well-built_. Arthur loved his own tunic, claiming that he had felt like a princess. Cinnabar had corrected him, saying that it was imperative that he would feel like a prince, but Arthur had ignored him. He was still very upset that Cinnabar had driven away Becka. It had not mattered that Cinnabar, Cornelia and Claudia all three had tried to explain to him that that girl meant trouble - he was still adamant that he was in the right, even if it had meant that he had supported her lie that she was a Rusk.

If I had known that, Cinnabar thought while ogling his the youth who soon would be his brother legally, I would've killed you, Becka.I swear I would have. Pretend to be a Rusk, have you no shame?

A grey doe with white hair who was in Claudia's age appeared from the west - squat and with short and smooth fur, unremarkable apart from her nose being so dark it almost was purple. She was dressed in a white robe with thin golden embroideries all across, and had a needle with an exquisitely coloured metal tulip attached to the chest of her outfit. A pair of small round glasses adorned her face.

Caroline smiled so her eyes glittered. She took the hands of the unfamiliar female.

"Irma!" she said. "I cannot express how grateful we are for this opportunity!"

Cinnabar noted that his mother had crossed her arms and made a sanctimonious look.

"The pleasure is on my side, let's follow one another in for this most extra-ordinary of sessions!"

They walked into a large hall with white-painted walls and pillars, holding up a ceiling of arcs through which numerous small glassed triangular windows had been placed. On the marble floor, amongst the alcoves and pillars, Leporian citizens and thingsdoes from all of The Flower Valley were murmuring, at a somewhat sober volume. It felt like at a funeral pyre.

Claudia called on to the attention of Cinnabar and his sister. One of her hands rested on Arthur's shoulder.

"I will go to the Census Department and sort out the adoption issue, so we have that out of the world. You should follow your aunt to the Hall of the Representatives, and sit down - and behave. We are in a state of war and you are in the sacred seat of Leporian democracy, so no tomfooleries, please!"

"I promise to behave," Cornelia said. Cinnabar was looking around, admiring the statues and the vaulted ceiling. Caroline tried to take their hands and lead them on.

"Aunt!" Cornelia protested. "I am big enough to start my own family soon."

"Pardon me!" Caroline let out an embarrassed laughter. "Last time I've met you two rascals, you were small..."

"Like... two months ago?" Cinnabar responded.

"Thing is," Caroline admitted. "I'm seeing you so seldom, so it haven't really dawned on me how big you've become."

"No offense taken," Cornelia smoothed out the situation. They moved through a wide corridor flanked by banners of the various districts, through a vaulted door over which a gilded Republic banner hung.

The Thingshall proper was the centre of the amphitheatre, its balconies were teeming with activity, whereas the seats of the thingsdoes below were less than half-full at the moment. At the centre, there was an elevated platform cut from an ancient oak, on which four seats were carved. Cinnabar reminisced that three of the four seats were for the two grand notaries and the Chairdoe of the Republic, also known as the "Oakenchair". The fourth seat, which was below the other three, was for whomever was addressing the Hall during sessions. All the four seats were empty as for now.

Caroline led the siblings to the third balcony on the left of the stairs leading down. She sat down at the corner and made a sign to Cinnabar and Cornelia to sit down, not an easy task since the balcony was crammed with spectators this day, all buzzing and discussing with one another, a cacophony of rumours and gossip.

"Apologies for this mess," Caroline smiled in a resigned manner, her ears pressed against the back of her neck. "Usually, these seats are gaping empty, and I don't blame the people of Glennenmór for that. Sometimes, I've fallen asleep down there myself I have to admit. It's not every day we're getting invaded however, and the people are worried."

Worried, Cinnabar thought. He gazed around over the crowded balconies. There was tension, but it was more a mixture of confusion, bewilderment and a dulled anticipation, rather than the focus and determination that one would expect when the country geared up for war. He could not help but move his eyes up towards the edges of the amphitheatre, where the clouds peacefully rolled over the blue skies. There were beige fabric tarpaulins bound at the edges, as a protection during rainy days. Otherwise, the area was entirely open - which actually was stipulated in the constitution of the Republic, that all public decisions must take place underneath the open skies, to be witnessed by the Goddess and by the people.

If the silver birds wanted,they could decapitate the Republic in one stroke. The realisation of their feebleness in the face of this enemy made his heart burn with chagrin. The anger was only intensified by the seeming obliviousness of the Glennenmórites, these pompous burghers, peddlers and bureaucrats who went around as if what had occurred had been a curiosity. Chubby-cheeked, well-fed, garbed in expensive new clothes of the latest fashion, produced by the finest tailors. I hope you dig deep.

"Why?" Cornelia wondered. "Why do they seem to be so unnerved by this?"

Caroline placed her hands on the shoulders of the siblings, leaning in between them.

"They do not know what has happened, more than that there have been incidents in three northern districts."

"But that is not what has happened!?" Cinnabar protested.

"It is," Caroline said, her voice neutral and without humour. "There have been incidents, and four towns have been evacuated, although we suspect that the real number right now is seven or eight."

"But the people must be made aware of the danger!" Cornelia protested.

Caroline lowered her head and ears, looking distraught. "I was invited to the briefing with the Defence Committee this night. We agreed that no public announcements would be made until today, so to not cause panic amongst the populace. We would not want riots when..."

"When what?" Cornelia questioned the Thingsdoe.

Caroline kissed her forehead. "Now I must leave, my beloved niece, but you will see," she said.

As she turned around, Cinnabar's aunt was suddenly attacked by the embrace of a lop-eared male with brown fur, garbed in a green jacket over a red tunic. He wore a chain with silver casing over his neck, had a grey moustache and round glasses above it. He was bellying but quite tall.

"Ho-ho Caroline!" he let out with a cuddly voice. "Guess I'm catching you off guard again! You owe me one!"

Cornelia and Cinnabar both flew up on their seats.

"Father!" Cornelia let out, more surprised than happy.

"Robbie!" Cinnabar burst out, more happy than surprised.

*

Solicitor Robert Rusk was hailing from the Rusks of Glennenmór, descended from Obyrante Rusk and Mathýas Hassla. While the Rusks of Ruskebó were the most noble of the six branches of the Rusk tree, the Rusks of the Capital were at least ten times wealthier (not that it mattered much for their status, since the Ruskebó branch were proud of the fact that they did not strive to hoard Résa). In order to prevent inbreeding, there was a fifty-year arrangement by the temple of Ruskebó which stipulated that coupling was arranged with males from Glennenmór.

Robert - or Robbie as he also was called - had been meant to couple with Magda that Summer's Solstice six years ago. But he had, according to his own words, been 'heedlessly and quite so headlessly been smitten by the charms of Claudia', and asked for a coupling with her. The result of that union had been Cinnabar and Cornelia.

"Ah!" he let out when he saw Cornelia. "Oh!" when he saw Cinnabar. "We're having fine visitors, heh? You should've told me, Caroline!"

Caroline leant with her head. "You should've known. Ruskebó was evacuated yesterday afternoon."

"Evacuated you say, heh?" Robert wrinkled his nose. "So it was a 'stage-3 evacuation', heh? We're in trouble, right?"

"You can say that," Caroline shrugged. "Look Robbie, I have to say I'm sorry, for there's an extraordinary session - and even if we haven't achieved full presence, it would be seen as most impolite to stand here and chat idly. I have to rush... Ouch!"

Robert had pinched her, a wide grin playing over his face. "Well, what we're chatting about then, heh? Run down! Run down, Caroline you idle-chatter!"

Caroline let out an embarrassed laughter and rushed towards the wide stairs down to the legislative chamber.

"May I sit down?" Robbie grunted as he pressed himself in between his children. He gave Cornelia a hug and then proceeded to give Cinnabar a nudge.

"Heh, Cinnie boy! You certainly did choose a crowded day for this!"

There were still citizens moving into the public gallery, like a flood.

"There must be over three hundred people here!" Cornelia complained loudly.

"Yes," Robert purred. "And half of 'em have been soliciting my advice. I can tell you stories... but not names, breach of confidentiality you know, heh! But now you have to tell me, what happened? I'm in the blue, have heard that a new species of predator birds have attacked in the north, and then rumours telling that hundreds have died... what a way to celebrate the advent of the five hundredth..."

"Thousands," Cornelia interrupted him, not without a hint of irritation.

"Nah, you cannot be serious, Corny..."

"I saw it with my own eyes," she said. "How the ferries blew up. How they attacked the escape rafts, with the mothers and children." A tear emerged from her eye.

For a moment, Robert sat silent, digesting the information. He placed his hand on Cornelia's cheek, trying to wipe away her tear. She turned her face away from him.

"I'm not good at this," he said. "But I know you've seen some horrible things. If you want to talk..."

She pushed away his hand. "I'll cope."

He moved towards Cinnabar, hanging with his jaw. "I'm sorry," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

At that point, several horns blew. From the oak-framed door at the opposite end of the amphitheatre, a dozen guards armed with axes wrapped in legal documents appeared, surrounding three does and one buck. Two of the does were garbed in grey cloaks and carrying scrolls underneath their arms. The two grand notaries.

The young buck was holding the third doe in her right arm. Her left arm was holding a cane, and she moved forward with slow, wagging steps. Her body was squat and squarish, which was emphasised by the sloped neck. A massive dewlap fell down over her chest. The bright grey fur was thinning, revealing the silhouette of wrinkled pink skin underneath as the window sunrays fell over her. The tired black eyes squinted with glimmers of intelligence, and she adjusted her round glasses to better see the audience. She was dressed in a black robe with golden embroideries, a red sash moving diagonally over her shoulder.

As she slowly ascended the steps around the wooden platform, his voice heralded silence and asked for the assembled thingsdoes and spectators to raise the first and last verse of 'The Flower Valley Hymn'. Everyone partook, especially Cinnabar.

"Every field so green is thine heart's song

Every tree dear casts a shadow long

Dear and beloved every voice

For this land thine soul rejoice

The shimmer of the lakes so wide and blue

For this our beloved home forebears came through

For every field so green is thine heart's song

This is the land where thou belong"

_ _Some spread-out applauses and whistles were heard, but the herald raised his wooden bauble and ordered the horns to blow again. As silence fell over the People's Hall, he raised his raspy voice.

"Silence!" he ordered. "The Chair of the Republic will speak!"

Jazlene Astis stood down there at the speaker's chair, below her own seat. A parchment with a few notes had been placed before her, and she cleansed her throat. How old could she be? Around forty, Cinnabar estimated. She will be lucky if she lives for three more winters.

"My... my dear co-equals, sisters, brothers, citizens of the Republic," the Oakenchair began with a screeching voice. "My majority, and of my loyal opposition. Yesterday... a most tragic chain of events occurred in the northern districts of Ruskebó, of Iskér, of Thálresia. Most tragic chain... an earthquake struck, and a part of the Rim collapsed, revealing a of gash. Following this, the towns of Ruskebó, of Mársk and of Thálresia, were viciously of attacked during the eve of the celebrations. Hundreds were of killed."

A murmur was heard from the balconies of the public gallery. The Oakenchair raised her bony hands and stretched her chin out.

"We felt of the tremors of the earthquake here, in of Glennenmór itself. I felt them myself, when I partook in the Five Hundredth Solstice Festivities. I called to myself of general Haythorn Lange, and dispatched him to Valenhém to access damages in the northern districts. He soon received the news that of Ruskebó was under attack, followed by of the two other towns. He decided to requisition the available ferries to evacuate the females, the elderly, the infirm, the children, to of Glennenmór."

She held her ears low as she shook her head, taking off her glasses briefly.

"It grieves me, my dear sisters, to tell you of what happened at of rlangen in the small hours of this night. Thirteen ferries, loaded with well over five thousand Leporians, were assaulted on the waters by this enemy - by these 'strafers'. It grieves me, to tell you that a tragedy most terrible occurred on the waters at of rlangen... when the enemy sunk ten of the thirteen ferries. At this of moment, one hundred and of eighty passengers are confirmed dead, and well over of three thousand are missing..."

The tension grew in the Hall. People were leaning over the rails of the balconies as a murmur grew, and ears were raised frantically into the air as they started to vent their questions. 'Do you have the names of the arrivals'? 'How many Knapps are deceased'? 'When will we evacuate'? 'Where will we evacuate'? 'Who attacked us'? These and numerous other questions were raised, all at the same time. The herald tapped with his bauble against the floor so it echoed, but the humming only intensified. He had to order the horns to be blown for the public to calm down.

"Order in the People's Hall!"

"Believe me... sisters and of brothers!" Jazlene almost begged with a cracking voice, her cheeks visibly wet. "We will answer of your questions. As for now, I, your elected of Chair, plead from thee three minutes as of silence. We shall contemplate... we shall of mourn... the passing of hundreds of our fellow Leporians, after which I yield the floor to a witness of the events at of Ruskebó town. But now, this of mine heart cries to you, sisters and brothers of Leporian Nation, to show your respect for the fallen, lower your of ears and gazes and send them your of thoughts and prayers."

The three minutes of silence were not entirely silent. Someone was crying slowly, and spread-out sobs could be heard from the terraces. These disturbances did however add to the sense of serenity that had fallen over the Hall, like a soft cold rain. A mist of uncertainty wandered around, and if the Oakenchair had believed that she would calm down the worries of the people, Cinnabar hoped she understood that she had failed.

She had been helped up on her seat now, sitting in awkward silence as a white-robed figure was lead through the path of procession by two of the guards. The herald called out Claudia Rusk, and Cinnabar tensed his ears, leaning out over the rail. Robbie did the same, letting out a half-choked whistle through his teeth.

Claudia made a little tilt forward with her chin, and closed her eyes as she stood before the oaken platform. A sign of respect for the Republic and for its highest executive. Cinnabar had never imagined that his mother would behave so under control in the presence of Jazlene Astis, a doe, representing a party which she despised. The Oakenchair raised her frail hand, giving Cinnabar's mother the word.

"I am grateful," Claudia rendered, "to be presented the honour of bearing testimony before this the most sacred of Republican chambers."

She turned around, her eyes moving around amongst the assembled thingsdoes. There were something electrifying about them right now, and the fur on Cinnabar's neck stood out. For the first time ever, he could envision his mother sitting on Jazlene's seat.

"Likewise," Jazlene coughed, "we are honoured by your presence, of councillor-doe Claudia Rusk, from of Ruskebó District."

"May I have the speaker's chair, oh esteemed Chair of the Republic?" Claudia requested.

"The Chair of the Republic is yielding the of speaker's chair," Jazlene nodded and raised her ears.

The herald led Claudia towards the speaker's chair. "Highly respected thingsdoes, and honourable humble citizens of Glennenmór," Cinnabar's mother began on a thicker than usual Ruskebó dialect. "I'm but a simple doe and mother of two from Ruskebó, so I apologise beforehand if my retelling of the events may be frank and abbreviated, but we are a practical folk."

What followed was an eloquently concise recollection of the events, and Cinnabar was surprised that his mother had put all these details on her memory. She told of the strange lights that had been seen on the skies prior to the earthquake. After that, she moved onward to the earthquake itself and how the district council had acted. Her voice cracked a little when she told about the massacre at the Solstice Fair. She lauded the local military for a speedy evacuation, and then moved on to the ferry. There however, her hands began to shake, and she cried when she told the audience of the rlangen attack. She also took time to describe the strafers, calling them 'shining flying mirrors', and to describe the troll warriors which had followed.

Cinnabar could not help but be impressed and his blood warmed as he saw his mother's performance.

"She's very bright, your mom," Robbie whispered in Cinnabar's ear. Cinnabar nodded.

The herald announced that it was question time. One thingsdoe, named Myranda Sigma (T), stood up and questioned how it came that the Rim Corps had not previously alerted the authorities in the Ruskebó District about the incursion, and whether the District Council had coordinated their defence policies with the Rim Corps? Cinnabar expected his mother to become angry at this insolent questioning. Instead, she thanked Myranda for the question and proceeded to tell that the Rim Corps in the District only contained a garrison of a few hundred, that most of the Rim Guard had been dispatched at the four southern passes, and it was deemed unlikely that the Valley would be invaded from the north.

The next question was from another Tulip, a doe of whom Cinnabar did not catch the name. The question she asked was a request for a specification of the defence preparations of Ruskebó and how the District coordinated with the local military authorities. Claudia excused herself, stating that she was not an expert on all the details, but that the planning was that the Rim Corps would make regular excursions beyond the Rim and warn about any incursions. The doe then asked for permission to develop her question, was granted that and asked how many excursions the Corps were making. Claudia answered that they were doing three excursions every month.

"My question is answered," the doe bowed her head.

More questions were asked for the following hour. Cinnabar noted that some of the Tulips were asking leading questions, as if they tried to portray the Lily-led district as incompetent or unable to deal with this crisis. Most of the questions however were questions regarding the trolls, the strafers and the connection to the collapse of the Rim. On these questions, Claudia could only repeat parts of her testimony. The air was seeped with frustration over how little intelligence they had access to regarding the Enemy.

At the end, the Chair coughed, and the herald stated that the questioning was over. Jazlene thanked Claudia for her testimony and remarked that it must have been difficult to stand there and recollect such horrific events. Claudia stated that if she had reason to believe it would help the Leporian Nation, she would gladly testify three times.

Cinnabar's mother walked away slowly alongside the procession path. She moved towards the sides and grabbed a nervously shivering figure by the arm. It was Arthur, and together they continued to walk up the stairs towards the balconies, pressing themselves past the murmuring crowd.

Another witness was called up. Cinnabar recognised her as ferry captain Marja Wassén from 'The Grand Old Pike'. Her testimony mostly concerned the rlangen attack, and was far more short and prosaic than Claudia's had been. As she commanded the speaker's chair, Claudia and Arthur crammed themselves in behind Cornelia and Cinnabar.

"Oh... so you are here... why I am not surprised?" she commented Robert's presence.

Cinnabar's father turned around. "So, heh? You are on that mood, Claudia? So I've disappointed you?"

Claudia sighed and looked towards Cinnabar, smiling. "No. You go wherever you want, Robert.Wherever."

"Funny that you would say that, Claudia," Robert gritted between smiling teeth. "I kind of remember that someone begged to stay in Ruskebó. And that someone else sent him away."

"You did a fantastic presentation, mother!" Cornelia stood up and gave Claudia a surprise embrace. Claudia gently pushed her daughter down.

"Not here," she mumbled, and turned back to Robert, "I think you have important business to attend to."

For less than a moment, conflicting emotions struggled over his face. Then it broke up in a sunny smile.

"Well, yes I guess, heh... goodbye children..."

Cinnabar stood up. "Wait! Robbie! Can we meet later?"

Robert turned around. "In one hour and thirteen minutes, heh! Meet your old buck outside of this modest house and we're going to have fun-fun-fun!"

Claudia turned towards Cinnabar, sighing. "Well, guess you are six years old so you'll do what you want, Cindy."

"Yay!" he let out. "I'm going to hang out with Robbie!"

"Sit down!" Claudia ordered him as she sat down between them. "And when you leave, do so discreetly."

"I promise, mother," Cinnabar smiled and waved goodbye to his father.

*

The extra-ordinary session of the Thing continued on with three more testimonies. The first was the priestess of Valenhém, a thin black-speckled doe who's right arm was shaking uncontrollably. She had difficulties describing the strafers without crying, and at the end of her testimony, she broke down into tears completely, claiming the Goddess had abandoned the Flower Valley. Questions were deemed off the table. The next witness was a councillor from Thálresia, who reported that the town had been overwhelmed not only by strafers, but by monsters moving by the ground. She was asked whether they were trolls, and she said that they were alike the strafers, but yet different. They were described to be like spiders, beetles and crabs, with long legs, and they moved underneath the lower vegetation of the backwoods.

The last witness was called up by none other than Irma Astis. It was colonel Morgan Raval, a red-eyed buck with fur so dark-brown it almost was black. He was asked to tell of his position and to disseminate the news of what the military had agreed on. It was shown that he was the acting deputy of general Haythorn, who was returning from Valenhém (he must return through the land routes, Cinnabar thought).

Following the reports of the losses of Ruskebó and Thálresia, the military had dispatched couriers to all towns in the Republic to be disseminated at the dawn of the coming day, when all the scrolls would be opened up as the Sun stood in the east. The news would state that the Republic had been attacked, and that every community would be tasked to mobilize all bucks between the ages of seven and twenty-four within seven days. "At that point," colonel Morgan said, "we will have more than two hundred thousand bucks under arms, ready to engage the enemy in all fronts and overwhelm them."

Silence reigned the People's Hall.

Irma Astis and the three does sitting closest to her stood up and applauded. After a moment's hesitation, about half the chamber followed her.

"This is not how it's supposed to be!" Claudia muttered between her teeth.

Cornelia turned around. "But mother..."

"Hush! I'll explain later, child."

Cinnabar sat perplexed, feeling how the wings of history were beating before his face as the scene unfolded. The colonel moved away from the stage, and gave way to one of the does who had sat in the same line as Irma.

"Thingsdoe Viska Wassén," the herald presented her.

Viska greeted the Chair and proceeded to roll up a scroll she had kept in her sleeve. She put on her glasses, smiled as she cleared her throat and began to read out the bill.

"We, the members of the Steering Committee of the Public Reform Party - the Thing Group - have prepared a new bill, called 'The Total Mobilization Act of 501 AS', or simply RLA-501-01."

"They should have begun with this," Claudia sighed for herself. "Now they're making it a foregone conclusion."

Cinnabar turned towards his mother. "But... the time."

"Shut up, Cindy!"

"...therefore, my proud sisters and patriotic brothers," Viska continued, "I therefore will read out loud from this bill so we can deliberate. Before that," she said and turned towards Jazlene, "I will however ask the Chair to open up the possibility for a rush vote on this bill."

"This can't be real! Oh poor Flower Valley!" Claudia mumbled.

Jazlene leant forward. "Can my dear sister of Viska Wassén please deliberate why she of believes there need not be an of debate of this Act?" the Chair wondered with her raucous tone.

"Because," Viska said, looking up with thoroughly honest eyes, "our homeland is in a state of peril. There is a fire raging outside of this building, and people are dying. For every moment of delay, we lose ground. The army needs the support of the people, and this chamber is obliged to provide that support..."

"Protest!" a Thingsdoe from the backbenches cried out, standing up. "What is this for a democracy if a debate cannot be held over the most... over the most... important issue we've faced since the great earthquake... No! Since two hundred years!?"

"Silence in the hall!" the herald shouted, tapping his staff against the floor. The doe sat down again.

The Chair stood up, supporting herself on the armchairs of her seat. She raised one of her ears briefly in approval and moved out her hands. "My of suggestion is that we in this of Thing shall hold a simple of voting procedure, sisters! Wave your ears in support for a rushed of voting procedure, or stomp your feet against it. Beware however, that the Military have said that the situation is of dire, and we need every minute we have. Use that time of wisely, sisters!"

The yes votes moved first, a brief waving of ears moving from side to side on all lines. Then the stomps came. Cinnabar could only hear like five or six. The procedure would be rushed, with no debate or deliberation. Either the Act as it stood would be enacted, or it would fall. He felt a sting of fear in his belly.

What if they vote against the Act?What would happen then?

"Read the of Act please, my child," Jazlene purred after having declared the rushed process approved.

Viska cleared her throat once more, her eyes glittering with pride. "Well," she said, laughing nervously. "Here it comes!"

'The Total Mobilization Act of Year 501 A.S, (RLA-501-01).

Hereby, this the 36th Great People's Thing of the Flower Valley Republic, approves the following measures in order to protect the security and well-being of the Leporian Nation and the institutions of the Republic, her armed forces and her territorial integrity.

§1 - The Great People's Thing Recognises that the territory and people of the Republic of the Leporian Nation in the Flower Valley is under sustained attacks of military nature and in a state of warfare.

§2 - All able-bodied males of the ages of seven to twenty-four shall be mobilized into

the rear guard force and assemble in their rallying points within seven days of the 27th of Pollenbloom, the second day of the year After Settlement 501.

§3 - All civilians (excluding above-mentioned males in §1) in the districts of Iskér, Ruskebó, Thálresia, Valenhém and Hasselbó must immediately evacuate to Glennenmór. Regional military districts are responsible for further evacuations.

§4 - The Southern and Western Rim Guards are hereby discharged from border patrol duty and dispatched to the defence of the frontlines.

§5 - All commercial activities must cease at 7 AM the morning of the 27th. It will be a crime to peddle goods and hike prices, and be dealt by the Fencing-and-Fraud-Act of 441 AS.

§6 - The Republic is enabled to requisition all necessary goods, granaries, production facilities and properties necessary to wage war.

§7 - The Republic is granted a monopoly on the distribution and transport of provisions.

§8 - All civilians not ordered to evacuate are hereby prohibited to leave their assigned districts, or their current place of visit (unless they are public employees, have been given commission by the Republic or contact the local district council with a signed permission of movement).

§9 - Mandatory curfew is instituted after 8 PM.

§10 - A total State of Emergency is declared.

§11 - The following Acts are temporarily repealed: RLA-303-15, RLA-303-17, RLA-303-18, RLA-379-09, RLA-392-73, RLA-411-25, RLA-477-30, RLA-477-31, RLA-480-01, RLA-485-16, RLA-493-22, RLA-498-04'

"Let me end this proposal," Viska summarised, "with a quote from the general Anton Rusk. 'May we bleed, so our children may live. For the Nation, we have to make sacrifices, and some may have to make... the greatest of sacrifices."

A feeling which Cinnabar could not really grasp reigned over the Hall. He could not understand what made this so difficult. Why this silence? Would they not need to make sacrifices to win this war? Then, an applause was heard, followed by more spread-out applauds and a waving of ears. Yet a third of the Hall sat immobile.

Jazlene Astis nodded approvingly, and called for a vote with her grandmotherly voice. Two thirds waved with their ears, and those who were lop-eared waved with their fingers instead. A fifth stomped on the floor. The remainder remained silent.

Jazlene Astis declared the motion passed, and suspended the Thing. As he stood up, with a sore rear, Cinnabar felt a great relief and hope shower over him. For a moment, he had thought the motion would fall between the cracks of the wooden floor, though it disturbed him that some of the Thingsdoes had voted no. Traitors, he thought and clenched his fists under his sleeves. Not ready to make sacrifices for the good of the Republic.

He turned around as they walked out, looking at his mother who led Arthur onward. The fur on her cheeks was wet with tears. The resolution of this historic moment felt anticlimactic, like after a funeral. The national anthem was sung in minor as the small family of four elbowed themselves out.

*

"Well..," Claudia complained while holding on to Arthur's hand. "I guess this was the Republic..."

They stood at the corridor outside of the Thingshall proper.

Cinnabar sighed as he leant back against a pillar, crossing his arms and clearing his throat. "They had to do something, mother. The Enemy... you saw them yourself! Whatever we have to do, we... have to vanquish such evil!"

He almost thumped the marble floor, his mind rewinding the scene... the breeze playing on the field, a little child running around disoriented, a strafer descending down... the little-one bursting like a bubble of blood.

His mother looked at him, her eyes tired and despondent.

"Look," he grunted. "Didn't you see what they did to Rudder? To others at the Solstice feast? To those on the other ferries? Have you forgotten?"

She shook her head.

"It is our patriotic duty to support the motherland!" he continued.

She did not respond, looking straight into him without commenting.

"What is it, mother? You are not shouting at me."

She started to scoff. "Oh Cindy, my beloved son!" she laughed, tears of sorrow flowing down her cheeks. "I won't stop you from venting air... vent all the air you want... for tomorrow it's too late!"

"Aunt Caroline!" Cornelia called out as the Thingsdoe returned out from the great hall, in the company of Irma Astis and Viska Wassén, the later moving with her arms behind her back. She was surprisingly lean and thin, almost like a needle crowned by a ball of orange fur.

Caroline smiled in a tired manner and gave Cornelia a hug. "Phew!" she let out. "These sessions, always so exhausting!"

Claudia had turned away her face from her sister.

Irma grinned and put one of her arms behind Viska's back. "Well... today it was only one bill, and we got it through. Even if we had to use our combined three heads to pull it through!"

"How are you sister?" Caroline asked. "You look... well... anyone more died?"

"Do not touch me, Caroline," Claudia warned, and her sister moved away her hands.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes."

Irma took a step forth, moving close to Cinnabar's mother. "We had to do what is best for the Nation. You have to..."

"Have to what?" Claudia said, her voice cold as ice as she turned around. "Have to grind through a pathetic joke of a bill which never would have survived a proper debate!?"

Viska's eartips shivered. "B-but," she said with her feeble voice, almost as if Claudia had called her child ugly or something. "I worked for hours on that motion! What do _you_know about legislation, country-doe?"

"When," Claudia began, "will the State of Emergency be lifted?"

Irma puffed up her chest. "Now you are unfair, Claudia Rusk. The State of Emergency is only going to be temporary, until we've won the War. It is not the military that is in control, but the people."

"Where does it say so?" Claudia interjected, her voice seething with contempt corrosive like acid rain. "The motion does not say anything about how it should be abolished or who it is that is in charge of it. You girls," she nodded towards Caroline. "It's like... like... I don't know, you've just veered us all right away from the Constitution!"

"Look here, gal'!" Irma grunted and stomped the marble floor. "You should apologise for your insolence! We're taking you into the Capital, and you have the stomach to question the things we have to do to save your precious Ruskebó! I will tell you... I am a constitutional scholar! I hold two degrees in Law, and one in Theology for that matter. This motion was perfectly legal."

Cinnabar could never believe that he could be so ashamed of his mother! He almost wanted to dive headlong into the depths of rlangen and stay down there with the pikes. It was the worse since his mother previously that day had made him so proud, by her dignified behaviour at the speaker's chair. He took her sleeve, she shrugged him off.

"Mom!" he pleaded as Claudia moved closer to Irma. "Can we stop this?"

"This motion is outside of all control, and you know it would never have survived under normal circumstances..."

"These are not normal circumstances, my dear," Caroline chirped happily.

"Shut up, sister!" Claudia let out, and then turned towards Irma Astis. "How is the State of Emergency going to be repealed? When the crisis is over?"

"I'm absolutely shocked!" Irma gasped. "How can you have so little faith in our Democracy, Claudia?"

Claudia's nostrils widened as she breathed in. The next moment, Irma had fallen back into the arms of Caroline and Viska, while Claudia stood and stared on the palm of her right hand with disbelief.

"What... have I done?"

Irma flew up, her previously gregarious semblance blown away. The eyes were ignited by wrath. "How dare you hit me!? Me! My grandmother is the Chair of the Republic!"

Both females grabbed the arms of one another, moving towards a wrestling match. Cinnabar and Cornelia grabbed their mother's robe, but could not prevent her from wrestling down the protesting Thingsdoe and battering Irma's face with her arms. She tried to protect herself with her own arms and land her own punches, but Claudia was taller and heavier and easily overwhelmed her, smashing her shoulders and head against the floor.

"How you dare!" Irma cried.

"I'm no child!" Claudia growled. "As for me 'having no trust of the democratic system', I have plenty of love for it. It is you, your grandmother and your kleptocratic party I have no trust in!"

With a sudden burst of strength, Cinnabar ripped his mother away from the panting Thingsdoe.

"MOM!" he burst out. "BRING YOURSELF TOGETHER!"

He noticed that his own hands were shaking. Claudia looked at him, expressionless with tears glittering at her eyes. Then she slapped him over the face. He grabbed her wrist and held it firm. Cornelia massaged Claudia's upper arms. They had been shielded off by a ring of guards armed with swords, led by none other than colonel Morgan. He was surprisingly scrawny for being a military buck. His eyes were red and stormy, filled with bitter passion, and his swarthy fur was a mixture between dark orange, brown and black, with grey hairs under his chin and around his neck.

"What is this for a ruckus?" he demanded to know, running towards Irma and taking her hands. "Are you alright, Thingsdoe?"

Irma's lower lip had cracked, her fur and robe stained with tiny droplets of blood. Viska was attending her with a napkin while Caroline was checking on her sister, to see that Claudia had not sustained any wounds.

Irma's mouth formed into a painful little smile. "I think I'll forgive her and decide to draw a leaf over this mess - she's hysterical, have lost a very dear friend..."

Claudia let out a growl and tried to plunge forward yet again - but Cinnabar countered her by placing himself between her and Irma. "Enough!" he called out.

"We do really not want trouble, sire!" Cornelia pleaded, clasping her hands before her chest.

"Maybe," colonel Morgan grunted, "trouble wants you?"

Irma took the colonel's hands, giving him a friendly wink with her blood-stained face. "I'll say we're dropping this - after all, she's the sister of my friend here," she said and nodded towards Caroline.

"This was an attack against a public official, and thereby an attack on the Republic!"

"All hail general Haythorn, Sire!" Cinnabar shouted and made a salute to the colonel, whose face turned towards Claudia's son.

"And you said, young buck?" he asked as his grey eyes became narrower.

"Sire!" Cinnabar continued, his wrist shivering. "I apologise on behalf of my mother. She feels unwell and had a most taxing testimony, Sire! I want you to know - Sire - that I personally support the government in the Emergency legislation and that I am prepared to serve the Nation!"

"Are you?" Morgan smiled. "How old are you?"

"Six, Sire!"

The colonel chuckled without any warmth in his eyes, and patted Cinnabar on the head. "You can leave, all three... no four of you."

Arthur had taken shelter behind Cornelia, looking forward with his nose nervously shivering.

*

Cinnabar had followed his family one block up north towards Caroline's home, before departing back towards the Thingshall again. A quarrel had erupted with Cornelia, who had blasted him for 'recklessness', claiming that he could become the object of provocations. He had called her stupid and paranoid, proceeded to leave his family and strolled down through the busy streets of Glennenmór. The Sun was periodically covered by clouds, their contours dancing in dark shadows and shining yellow sunlight.

He had believed that he would be late to his meeting with Robert. Instead, he had to wait for like five minutes until his father showed up, prodding towards the Thingshall through the Plaza of Heroes in his usual carefree way.

Cinnabar stretched his neck and tapped his foot on the ground. "Robbie, I assume you were doing something important?"

Robbie's whiskers vibrated as he stopped before his son. He gave his son a mischievous wink. "Heh! Yes, lady-matters... but here I am now. I'm sensing you're not in a good mood for a city-night, so what's bothering you - not my tardiness I hope. Have not not raised you to become a bore, Cinnie!"

Cinnabar crossed his arms and looked down. "There was... well, there was a fight," he mumbled. Robert placed his hand on Cinnabar's shoulder and leant forward, whispering.

"It was Claudia, right?" he winked.

Cinnabar did not even nod. Disinterested passer-by's swarmed around them, and the gates of the Thingshall were manned by five guards now.

"Personal or political?" Robert nudged his son.

Cinnabar wrinkled his nose. "It was the latter first, then it became the first..."

To his surprise, his father burst out into a laughter. "He-he! That's her indeed... remember the incident with Magda back in the olden days, heh!" Robert grinned and placed his arm around his son's shoulder. "Someone told you have a very broad back, Cinnie?"

"Well-built back, thanks father!" Cinnie grunted.

"Heh!" Robert stated and threw a glance towards a guard who in a seemingly aimless manner moved around the square, though in turns which always moved him without hearing distance of the two Rusks. "I'm pining for me apartment, what you say Cinnie? Up for some refreshments?"

Robert's apartment lied in the ninth floor of one of the three massive rectangular tenements at the southern end of the square. It was a luxurious seven-chamber apartment, containing a living room the size of Claudia's old apartment, a bathroom with a clay tub, a meticulously clean kitchen, several corridors, several bed rooms, a library, and a dance room with an own bar, partially consisting of the round balcony with a view of an outdoor pool surrounded by shrubberies with white flowers. The walls were covered in wallpapers of sky blue colour. Glassed candle lamps hung in copper chains from the ceiling in every room.

Cinnabar was too impressed to even conceal his awestruck expression.

"Wow!" he let out. "I don't remember your apartment like this..."

"I've moved since last year," Robert swelled with pride. "New clients, amongst the mining and logging interests. Make for lucrative deals in the east."

"I sure see that! You've climbed up this world a lot, Robbie!"

Robert sank down on his sofa, stretching out his legs in their full length over his table, an invaluable piece made from oak and marble. He used a contraption with two pieces of flint to ignite his black pipe before moving it to one of his nostrils.

"You've become quiet, Cinnie. Tell me... do you find my lifestyle... 'vulgar and extravagant'?"

He was mimicking someone - someone familiar, though he could not place the intonation perfectly. Robert had too much of a Glennenmór accent - but it was clear it was Claudia he intended to convey.

"Eh... no," Cinnabar said, and put up his feet on Robert's table too. "In fact," he said, "I would like to live like this too. I would live like a king!"

Robert whistled. "A 'king'? My, my, boy! Your mother has kept you in Ruskebó for too long! I've met some very wealthy and powerful people..."

"Not the magnates?" Cinnabar wondered, his eyes big like saucers.

"Maybe," Robert winked. "I've seen single families who live in mansion colonies, seven stories with an army of butlers and servants. You know that a dozen households in the entire Republic are supplying the government with a third of its tax revenue? Perverse isn't it, heh?"

Cinnabar sat quiet, contemplating Robert's words. There were two people in this world that had this effect on him, his dad and uncle Duncan.

"You know what you should do to become rich, son, heh?" Robert winked and rubbed the palms of his hands together.

Cinnabar shook his head.

"It is said," Robert mumbled, while scratching his back and chewing on his pipe, "that it always rains more over the rlangen. Water attracts water, and wealth attracts wealth. So, be born to a wealthy lineage and you'll be made for!" he chuckled.

"In the north where I'm from," Cinnabar nodded. "We tend to scoff at amassing wealth."

Robert looked up and smiled. "That's because you're barbarians, living as sustenance farmers. Your soil is pretty barren and stony, the south contains all the wealth. Gosh, the Enemy must be _really_oblivious to the make-up of the Flower Valley..."

"I disagree," Cinnabar objected for the first time. "I hate to say it, but they are clever bastards," he gritted, "to attack us in the north, where we're most vulnerable."

Robert, who was lop-eared, raised one of his hands, turning his wrist around. "The south only had a skeleton garrison of four thousand and five hundred Rim Corps. They would've been easily overwhelmed by these... eh... 'strafer birds', and then we would've been - pardon me language - truly buggered. Right now, they've taken five towns in the north - and I hear that our boys there are still attacking them in the rear. That'll sink their advance. To not say that Tasis Mársk has assumed command over the Iskéri garrison - I wouldn't like to mess with that girl, phew!"

"But the strafers move..."

"And the infantry," Robert smiled, "is moving slower. Also, it's some kind of hybrid army. There's those flat-faced horned bully-beasts..."

"I think they're called trolls..."

"Oh, so they didn't go extinct after all?" Robert grunted. "Well, they're in cahoots with three other races. One of them is unknown, but also completely unarmed. Squat things, not larger than typical Leporians, but ugly like my shaved grandmother, heh. The other two the Rim Corps know only too well, the Zusans and the Gulans. They are fearsome warriors, especially the latter, and far larger than us. But nothing the Rim boys haven't killed before. The scouts also report that - predictably - the enemy army is already experiencing frictions."

"Why?" Cinnabar asked.

"Why..? Well, the Gulans use to hunt the Zusans as their prey, despite being less large than them. Anyway, the Strafers kind of complicates the situation - our troops have to avoid open fields and water. They also have to run quick as arrows whenever those things show up. That's a bugger, pardon me heh, but we're going to do what we usually do, though on a larger scale - allow the enemy to penetrate deep into our territory, surround and destroy their rear forces, and then drive them into forest regions, prepared with traps and snares, or into abandoned towns, and destroy their main forces there. Don't get me wrong here, Cinnie-boy, this war won't be nice, but our boys will win it."

He waved his toes, leant back on his arms and puffing on the pipe stuck in his nostril.

"Oh, I wish I had your optimism, Robbie! But I've seen the Enemy attack..."

"Look here, heh. Estimates on enemy strength is that around seven thousand enemy infantry are moving through the backwoods. Their initial attack at Valenhém was even repelled early this morning, and that with only a small defending force of less than four hundred Rim Corps. Imagine then, when we're going to mobilise two hundred thousand Leporian bucks. The combined enemy army is probably less than one tenth of that."

Robert moved forward, towards the cookie jar. He took up a green cookie, made from timothy hay, and then showed it before his son. "Look here Cinnie, the enemy expect this Valley to be like this cookie. Oh gosh how wrong they will be! They expect a cookie jar, but what they'll stick their hands into will be an ant-nest! We will operate ceaselessly behind their lines, deny them any rest, draw them into fighting in the woods and towns, and either they will go away before winter or we'll destroy them!"

Then he gave the cookie to Cinnabar, and the cookie was soon gone. Realising that he was hungry, Cinnabar turned up his face. "Robbie-mate," he began, "will we dine soon?"

"Of course, I'll make some, heh."

They went to the kitchen, which was clean and covered in red and ochre tile plates. Apart from a plate of strawberries, it also seemed entirely empty of edible stuff. While sharing the berries, father and son scratched their head as they faced their predicament. Robert started to laugh.

"Oh boy!" he let out. "Forgot that we've out of food. Don't tell your mother, Cinnie-boy, but we're having to get out on a very dangerous mission. So onward, my brave companion - onward to the pubs!"